Nothing Here is Falling in Place
by JannP
Summary: There's something attached to his name and really, there are facts he can't ignore, and one of them is that at the age of eighteen his name is really all he has to share with her. He doesn't want to give her a name that's broken.Finn-centered during 3X22


**A/N: **I'm officially insane. Seriously, like muttering in the corner, rocking back and forth and apparently writing mass quantities of fic. Props to **Jacqui** for her super supportive beta among other things. Inspired by **Ghost Town **by **Cary Brothers**. Please let me know if this fills in the blanks from 3X22 for you because honestly, I'm trying but I think I'm still missing stuff.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own. Don't care. Don't sue - it's kind of mean and it really won't make a difference anyway.

* * *

**Nothing Here is Falling In Place**

He still gets antsy sometimes, like when he thinks about the future, and he doesn't really know why. He and Rachel talked through all this stuff step-by-step. They've been planning non-stop since basically January when she said she would marry him and it's all falling into place without that much forcing, isn't it? They have the money they need, they have the support they need, and they just have all these _plans_. The trouble used to be that he thought about the future and an elephant sat on his chest. He'd think about the future and he couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't function.

Well, the elephant is gone, but now when he thinks about the future he just… God, he paces. And he hates it a little bit and it confuses him and he doesn't get it. Why? They have plans. So what's the problem?

* * *

He hears back from the Army about his dad like two weeks before he tells anyone. He's not sure how he manages to snag the mail before Kurt 'cause let's face it—ever since the countdown for the NYADA letters started, his brother has been like a mail-getting ninja. It's kind of irritating and understandable all at the same time.

And it's really, really terrible that when he's home by himself, instead of trying to score some alone time with his fiancée, he stares at a piece of paper from the Army Review Board Agency. It's been too long, longer than fifteen years, so he can't change his dad's discharge status. There's literally nothing he can do.

_Except_, he thinks as he looks at the paperwork of his dad's that's all spread out on his desk, _enlist and have my own honorable discharge. _

If you cover up the first name, they have the same name. He starts wondering all over again what else they have that's the same and it keeps him up all night, just like it did when he first found out. Rachel realizes something's up, she says 'cause of the way his hands don't quite sit still and the way he's more tired than normal in school the next day. When he explains quickly and quietly what's going on, she just says there was honor in the effort and he can be at peace about it now. That's kind of what they'd said—he'd get an answer one way or the other and he'd have to be okay with it. She helped him do the research, they both know it's not like they can appeal the decision. So he _has_ to be okay with it and he doesn't know how to tell her that he's already starting to break their agreement with it because he still paces and he still can't sleep.

* * *

So as the seniors are getting their song ready to perform in Glee, they spend a lot of the time talking about the legacy they're leaving and legacies in general. He knows what a legacy is and he's kind of always known – it's what you leave behind for the people that don't go with you. The seniors as a group talk about the legacy they're leaving and really, he's proud of what they did and he thinks it made a difference. They all worked their asses off to make a difference and to be champions where for whatever reason, before that, every single one of them had thought they were a total loser.

Well, the thing is though that he hates thinking about legacies and especially when it comes on the heels of all the stuff with dad getting stirred back up. Because they keep calling glee _his _legacy—which it isn't, really—and tell him that he and Rachel are the ones who made it what it is. He wants to argue that it isn't like that, he hasn't really done _anything_, and he isn't going to do _anything_ because of the crappy legacy his dad left for him to clear up. Still, it isn't like he's not proud to have his name as co-captain attached to something as prestigious as winning the Nationals.

But for some reason, it comes back to his dad and the legacy his _dad_ left. He has his dad's legacy and even if he did something good in high school, there's no telling how much the legacy will work against him in the future. The legacy his dad left, the 'dishonorable discharge' attached to their name—it's the same if you cover up the first part—that isn't something that can be erased by singing your way to the top. He knows that something like your family name or whatever is kind of an old-fashioned concept. They talk about that, too, how the world moves so fast that you're only as good as what you did five minutes ago. He doesn't believe that. He can't believe that. He's a little too old-fashioned for that.

And that kind of explains why he wanted to marry Rachel and why he wasn't afraid to propose to her. It's another thing that isn't very conventional, really. He knows that. He knows that _now_ people don't get married when they're eighteen. People don't get married before they're, as Principal Figgins said, 29 years of age with a 401k plan. Whatever that is. He knows it isn't normal, but he thinks it's more simple; you get married when you find the person you love and want to spend your whole life with and being better for. And really, that's how he feels about Rachel and how he'll always feel about her so he wants to get married, even if he's 18. And when he's 50, he still will want to be married to her and they'll just be that much further ahead.

The only _other_ problem with that is the damn legacy. There's something attached to his name; and really, there are facts he can't ignore, and one of them is that at the age of eighteen, his name is really all he has to share with her. Sure, they can build more but that's where they'll start. And if they're starting with damaged goods, well… he doesn't want to give her a name that's broken, that's dishonored, or that doesn't have a good legacy attached. He can't explain _why_ these things are all attached in his head but they are. And the more people talk about legacies, more he thinks maybe, just maybe he has to change the one he was dealt before he can really move forward.

Because after all, his name is only four letters different. It's his name on the form from the military, or most of his name. So who's to say that his legacy would be that different, either?

* * *

Talking to his mom, in general, makes him feel better about stuff. Sure they hit a rough patch and sometimes they struggle to fill up silence that should maybe stay silent and be comfortable, but really that's basically behind them. They're moving on because they don't have a choice because time isn't really giving them the choice. He can't waste time being bitter or whatever that she lied because he has a life to get to.

And really… it seems like things are coming together in a way he never thought they would. Like a school year ago, there was an elephant on his chest. Now there's an acceptance letter on its way to his mailbox and a girl wearing his ring. He has plans, they have a budget and a timeline and… and… and … but.

That's the problem. There's always a but.

And this time it's just kind of always in the back of his mind. It's not as heavy as the elephant, it's not as in order as the timeline, but it's more like a whisper that kind of curls in to a smoke ring at the back of his mind when he's trying to sleep. It sneaks in and wraps around everything else and cuts off the circulation or whatever and then he's back to the pacing like he's caged and he doesn't even know why. At least this time after he talks to his mom, he gets it. He finally, finally gets it—even if opens more questions up for him.

Everything in his life is falling into place. Except for how he feels about what happened to his dad, and how he feels like he doesn't have the power to change anything that has happened. It kind of makes him feel like he doesn't have the power to change what _will_ happen either, and really that just kind of makes him sick to his stomach. He doesn't wanna repeat his father's mistakes. He wants to be a good man, with a clean slate and a good legacy and honor, not dishonor and…

He just doesn't know how to do that yet; acting doesn't seem like it's gonna get him there, even if he thinks it would be a lot of fun.

* * *

Artie dedicates the juniors' song to him and says that _he's_ the one who made sacrifices to get the glee club to where it is and he doesn't want the sacrifice to go unmentioned.

Finn wonders if all legacies start with a sacrifice, like they're saying his did with glee. He paces a lot that night and cries a little too; he doesn't _really _wanna think about what he might have to sacrifice to stop the pacing.

* * *

Rachel stays extra long at their house on graduation night; like, they graduated today and they had a fun ceremony and then they opened their stupid letters. It was sort of a buzzkill and he feels a little bad about being a total drag but… again with the buts. There always is one for him and he hates that it's like that. He double hates that it's like that for Kurt, too. So he's glad for Rachel; he's so happy for her and what it means for their future and how she pushed even after a really hard choke. She didn't give up and she gets rewarded and he's really, really happy for her. He is. _But_.

She doesn't ask them to celebrate. Their Friday family dinner is super quiet because him and Kurt are just shell-shocked. Blaine keeps throwing puppy dog glances that say he's _so_ sorry and Finn has no trouble believing they're real; he knows how _he_ felt when Rachel screwed up at her audition and it was awful and this is even worse for Blaine 'cause Kurt didn't do anything wrong. He doesn't deserve to not get in. It just doesn't make any sense.

He's not really surprised when Kurt and Blaine kinda take off for their own… um… maybe pity party is the best description. It was all supposed to be happy and a carefree night and now it's just heavy and it hurts and he wants to pace but he doesn't even have the energy. His head is busy enough going in circles, he doesn't really need to walk in them, too. They go out with her dads after they go out with his family (he's not sure why they kept it separate exactly, but he's pretty glad they did) and the atmosphere is different, happier. She gets a little bit of a celebration at least before she goes back to his house to sit with him and not talk.

She won't take no for an answer when they're leaving the restaurant and it isn't that he doesn't want to hang out with her, isn't that he isn't glad she's being so supportive, but at the same time… he can't stand the feeling that he's dragging her down, weighing her down when she should be so happy. It's like she's tied to a sinking weight and he almost pukes (not that it'd be hard after _two_ huge dinners, seriously) when he realizes she _is._ He's the weight. She wants to stay in Lima with him and Kurt already. He's holding her back. There's no but after that 'cause it's the whole truth.

* * *

The actual wedding is supposed to be a month away, give or take. That's when they have a place reserved and food will be ready and yeah, she was willing to compromise but he stopped protesting and let her have the stupid gold chairs. It made her really happy and he liked seeing her smile, so whatever; worth it. It's another thing where really, everything fell into place. He deposited his graduation money—like the stuff grandparents mailed and whatever—into their wedding account and it was enough she could get her chairs and he could see her smile even if she asked him four times if he was _sure_. Yes, he's _sure_. Well, he doesn't give a shit about the chairs. But he thinks part of it was her asking if he was sure he wanted to get married. That's always kind of an underlying thing, like the misty and barely connected thoughts about his dad; it's another reason he sometimes paces. He doesn't tell her that part either though because he _is_ sure he loves her and that she's the best thing in his life.

Anyway, so they have the chairs and the food and the place and their wedding license (again). It's all there. He's usually bad with impulse, but Rachel is worse and so he can't get out any other word besides 'yes' when, the day after graduation, she tells him she wants to get married in three days. It was like immediately after the ceremony stuff started coming loose. Puck is still leaving, Mercedes is going, Quinn is going to see her aunt or something—all the people that Rachel wants around when they get married won't be here. And it doesn't make total sense because, when she says she wants to get married, she calls it eloping which kind of means none of those other people will be there anyway. And honestly, he's still trying to catch his breath from not getting his dad's stuff changed, not getting into school, and so he's definitely not caught up to any of it when he just nods and tells her they can do whatever she wants and he'll be on board.

Then she says if she's staying 'home with you' for a year and deferring anyway, they might as well get started with a backup plan. They'll have more time to get everything lined up for him to try for spring semester or whatever if they just get married now. It's like he's _running_ to catch up now and he's too winded to even say no, but when she talks about staying behind for him and with him, the running makes him sick. He won't catch up, he is so far behind there's just no hope and no help and _no_. Just no. There isn't a but now either—this time he _knows_.

* * *

He's up all night pacing and thinking and when the thoughts turn and twist, he wants to cry. When they fall into place, he _does_ cry. He kind of cries an embarrassing amount and he takes a shower at like 5 am to hide it all because _that_ makes sense and no one will question him…actually they don't. Kurt gives him kind of a weird _are you okay_ sort of look at breakfast that morning but doesn't ask and Finn is maybe a little glad his brother is still distracted with his panic over the future to say something dumb enough his mom would catch on. If someone _does_ ask him, it's gonna go like this: Rachel won't go without him. He's not going. Rachel not going isn't an option.

He has to somehow _make_ her go without him and he knows what kind of extraordinary plan that will take. He doesn't want to attack her with his conscience but he knows she won't listen to his reasoning. She will protest because that's what she does—she looks for a compromise. He _loves_ that about her. But.

He can't follow her. He has to get there on his own. And 'his own' isn't taking him to New York. His own is kinda taking him back in time to undo some stuff so he can stop getting tripped up in it. He wants his own life, he does. He wants his own life _with her_. But he can't. Not right now. Not when something is holding him back and nothing is holding her back except him.

He doesn't really want to saddle her with dead weight. He never wanted to hold her back. He forgot how he asked her for a year last time, he asked what she was doing 'til graduation. The time she gave him is up now and he doesn't want to let her hold onto something that isn't good for her for too long. If he's gonna have the legacy he wants, the one he wants to _share_ with her, he's gonna have to make a sacrifice, not her. She can't sacrifice her future to hold onto someone who keeps looking back at stuff he can't actually see. She can't go forward with him looking back. She can't go forward with him. She probably has no idea how messed up he is because she doesn't care; she just loves him. She loves him and he's not sure he even deserves it. He wants to be better for her, wants to be more, wants to be the man she deserves. Again with the buts— he wants to be the man she deserves but he can't. He doesn't know how because he doesn't think he really had a good enough start to make it happen.

* * *

She calls him and says they have a time at city hall the next day at 4:45. They always get the last spot of the afternoon, it seems like. He tells her that he'll see her around four and suddenly he's just so, so tired. She asks if he's getting sick, maybe he's been working too hard and been too upset about school, and he wonders out loud if she's right. She tells him to get some rest so they can start the rest of their lives the next day; he agrees even though he knows it's not fair. But.

He doesn't pace at all that night. He just cries and eventually that stops and he finally sleeps.

* * *

If he wasn't so damn depressed, he'd think it's hilarious that her dads text him. But when he gets Hiram's message stating that Rachel '_arrived as planned and scheduled,' _all he can think is that at least everything is finally, finally in its place. She's in New York and he's…. well. He's working on it. All of it.


End file.
